Sin With Me
by TheLibrandy
Summary: Aziraphael and Crowley have been through so much together over the centuries. And although they are immortal they are not protected against sin.... A short series of drabbles relating to the Seven Deadly Sins. C/A pairing


(A/N: Hello, this is actually something I've been working on for a little while; I wanted to make sure I got it right because this is my first Good Omens fan fiction. I really hope you guys like it, and please review and tell me if there is anything I can do to improve my work. Now with out further ado I present: Sin With Me. Enjoy!)

_**Sin With Me**_

**Greed**: Being a demon, Crowley knew everything there was to know about sin; greed being one of his specialties. It was something to do that always seemed to make the centuries go by faster. The want for power, wealth, knowledge, even-surprisingly enough-_love_; it was incredible to see it all at work. And watching humans be consumed by their own greed, whether the downfall was caused by him or not, was something that always sparked the demon's curiosity. How was it that anyone could become so obsessed with someone or some_thing_ to risk everything to keep it? Years later, as the demon wrapped his arms around his lover he realized the answer. As he pulled the angel closer, only one thought crossed his mind before sleep claimed him; he would rather face the most horrible nightmare creatures in the universe then let Heaven-or Hell-take away what was rightfully _his._ _His_ lover, _his_ angel, _his _Aziraphael.

**Gluttony**: Aziraphael was not a glutton, oh heavens no. It was just that, even an angel had his weaknesses. His just so happened to be chocolate. And in all respect, it wasn't his fault it tasted so sinfully delicious, although he might know who's fault it actually was. It was so sweet and so bitter and so _wonderful_! And when Crowley had told him about some new kind of chocolate-an edible body paint-he just couldn't help but give in to his weakness.

**Envy**: The woman giggled at something Crowley said; Aziraphaels pencil snapped in half. This was the fourth one in ten minutes. The angel glanced up at said woman and twitched. The woman, Miss Lacy Some-thing-or-other, had come in asking about a book and, upon seeing Crowley, had decided not to leave. It was beginning to get on his nerves, but what was bothering him more was the fact that the demon seemed to be enjoying himself. '_Why on earth is he giving her so much attention?' _Not that he was jealous or even-heaven forbid-envious of the attention the demon was giving her. Of course not. She laughed again and lay her hand atop Crowley's; that was the last straw for the poor book keeper. The divine had patients, but this was just pushing it. Aziraphael closed the account book he was writing in with a loud 'SNAP', snatching back the attention of the two.

"It's getting dreadfully late," the angel spoke with a tight lipped smile, "and you promised me dinner, _my dear._" The angel linked arms with the demon, giving the woman a look that clearly told her what was on his mind. She huffed and stalked out of the shop, and as a slightly confused Crowley lead the way out to the Bentley, the angel smiled secretly to himself. Crowley may be a master tempter, but Aziraphael sure wasn't going to let him get away with it while he was around.

**Sloth**: He _should_ be corrupting the minds of the innocent. He _should_ be tempting mortals to sin. He_ should _be doing something **evil** at the very least. But, at the moment, he just couldn't care less. Crowley stretched out on his bed, content to just lay there for a few decades. Being slothful was something that he enjoyed greatly; it's how he made it through the 13th century. And the fact that a certain blonde angel was more then happy to join him only made it sweeter.

**Wrath**: Crowley hissed in anger as he glared at the pathetic human before him. The human in question merely lay there on the ground, paralyzed with fear.

"Oh, dear Go-"

"_I don't think he'sssss going to help you thissssss time._" Crowley approached the man slowly, savoring the way the fear rolled off him in waves. This man-this_ imbecile_-was going to pay dearly. He had had the gall to strike his angel, for no reason other then that he had wanted to harm the blonde. He would rue the day he had made such an idiotic mistake. The demon would make sure of this.

**Pride**: Aziraphael took great pride in being well groomed. Keeping his hair clean and brushed, his clothes neat and pressed, shoes shined, and his shop in order. With the angel everything was always in place. All of this went to waste though as soon as Crowley was around. He was the only person who could frazzle the angel and get away with it. Azira wouldn't have it any other way.

**Lust**: _Crowley gasped in pain as the flames began to lick at his face. Hell had brought him back down, they had taken him away when they had found out about him and Aziraphael. He couldn't believe he had let this happen, he should have known better. Crowley heard a whisper and looked up. He wished he hadn't. It was his angel only he wasn't so holy any more. His once beautiful white wings where now torn to bloody bits, his face burning in the heat of the fires. _

_"You had said you would protect me," he whispered, "I though you loved me. You did this to me." Crowley tried to block out the voice, he didn't want to hear this. Didn't want to hear the truth._

_"You tempted me into sin and you let me fall." The now fallen angels voice cracked, as if on the verge of tears. "This is your fault Crowley, your fault, YOUR FAULT-"_

"**NO**!"

Crowley shot up in his bed, wide eyed and frightened. Looking around he was relieved to find that it had only been a horrible dream. '_This is your fault-', _the haunting voice echoed through his mind, forcing him into realization. He looked over at his still sleeping companion, and brushed away a stray lock of unruly blonde hair. He had brought this holy creature down to his level, tempting him into lust. And with a demon no less. The demon rubbed his tired eyes and pulled the angel close as he lay back down. He could only hope that it had only been a horrible nightmare, and not a premonition of what was to come.


End file.
